Gingerbread house
by takitaka
Summary: Or in other words, Yuri doesn't know that sometimes Barnaby is a bastard just because he can. More cracky than I expected it to be.


Sometimes everyone gets urges. It's especially hard not to when something exceptionally pretty or interesting is standing right in front of you, tempting you with its perfection. Then naturally you feel the urge to possess. Or even touch. Or maybe—

Eat.

Right now Judge Petrov felt irresistible urge to try a gingerbread house that had been put right in front of him. Well, okay, maybe not—irresistible. He was a grown-up man after all, he could pull himself together and knew what was appropriate, and touching delicious product of what he guessed was Sternbild's best bakery that was there most probably mainly for decoration anyway was not one of "appropriate" things in the slightest.

But let's say it actually _should_ be eaten. In Yuri's humble opinion wasting food was something that should not be tolerated under any circumstances and god only knew what was happening with all that was left after HeroTV's enormous banquets. Wouldn't it be horribly hypocritical of him to stand by an opinion like that and still let the food go to waste when he could obviously prevent it?

Yuri came to completely justified conclusion that it'd be very shameful of him indeed.

The only remaining problem (besides the fact that he had to look at least intriguing, standing like that all alone during a party and contemplating sweets, but he quickly silenced that voice in his mind) was—how was one supposed to eat that thing? Quick reconnaissance confirmed the lack of any sorts of tools he could use to slice it (and he refused to believe that it was because it was not supposed to be sliced). Maybe he could… break himself a piece? Wouldn't it mess up the whole construction, though?

Finally his eyes fell on the house's chimney; it looked not only easy enough to separate from the rest, but was also covered with icing and colorful button-like candies, making truly _delicious_ impression. And Yuri couldn't help imagining how it'd taste with good tea that he spied already a few tables away in the corner (being nice to some members of the Organization Department that were unfortunate enough to have to put on those parties turned out to be more than profitable; Yuri didn't even suspect that his offhand comment about the lack of quality tea in general could be taken into consideration in such a way).

Back to the matter at hand, though—the chimney. Delicious looking chimney, dark gingerbread dipped in pearly icing; he could already feel his mouth watering like he could taste it just from looking.

Finally snapping out of his stillness he reached for the desired piece—only for it to be snatched away seconds before his own fingertips could even brush it, brown crumbles rolling down the roof and falling on the plate. Each one of them felt like pieces of Yuri's _soul_.

He slowly moved his gaze upward, following that hand, suited arm and broad shoulder until he found himself staring at no one else than Barnaby Brooks Jr. And suddenly it dawned on him that he never felt conscious urge to burn anyone quite as badly as in that exact moment.

Brooks smiled in what was supposed to be apologetic way, but was so obviously fake that Yuri was almost surprised that the man didn't choke on it.

"I'm sorry," the hero said in a voice full of respect, turning the stolen masterpiece of bakery in his hand. "I didn't notice you were reaching for it."

Yuri wondered if he could gouge Brooks' eyes out and say that he didn't notice that they were exactly where he decided to stab the air with a fork.

"I see," he replied with as much politeness, if not even more, trying desperately to not let his eyes flick over to Brooks' hand. His fingers had to be sticky with the icing. "Don't let it bother you," he added in a sudden flow of inspiration, allowing himself just the tiniest hint of sarcasm.

"That's nice of you to say." Brooks rewarded him with a smile obviously reserved for his fans and brought the gingerbread up to his mouth.

Yuri tried not to—do anything drastic.

With the greatest strength of willpower he tore his gaze away from Brooks' glassed face just when the man bit into the treat. Maybe he should expand Lunatic's policies into bringing punishment also upon bastards that stole sweets from unsuspecting people. Especially when they obviously did it on purpose.

What actually arose the question: why did Brooks feel the need to do it anyway? Until that moment he was under the impression that Judge Yuri Petrov and Sternbild Hero Barnaby Brooks Jr. were on civil terms with each other. It couldn't be the fines he was giving his partner, could it? During the cases Brooks did look exasperated, but it seemed to be directed at Wild Tiger, not at him. Did Brooks suspect him of being Lunatic? No, that didn't make any sense, stealing Yuri's sweets, although inexcusable and annoying, just—wouldn't be appropriate course of action. Unless Brooks expected him to get angry enough to snap and use his powers—and god knew that it didn't seem like a plan deemed to fail at all—but this particular hero didn't strike Yuri as a person silly enough to try that and certainly—not suicidal.

(Being subjected to Lunatic's flames was not something anyone could get themselves out of, after all.)

Not having any idea what to think of that and knowing perfectly well that he was over-analyzing, he looked up again—just in time to see Brooks' pink tongue licking the icing off his upper lip.

Suddenly Yuri's mind filled with picture of himself grabbing Brooks by the tie and jerking him forward, making the edge of the table between them press painfully into his thighs; his other hand taking a hold of blond hair to keep Brooks' head in place, so he could crush his lips against his, getting back what was stolen from him and right from those mouth, biting, licking, bruising—

"…mister Petrov?"

He blinked slowly as Brooks' actual face came into focus. The hero looked at him with confusion—or was that even uneasiness?—and Yuri felt cold with dread when he wondered just how much of his thoughts reflected on his face.

He brought his hand to his hair in an almost nervous gesture, brushing it away from his forehead and taking deep, careful breath.

"Sorry," he managed finally, his voice thankfully calm and composed. "What was that again that you were…?"

"I was just saying that there's still a lot of food left on the plates…"

As if they both didn't know perfectly well that it was not what that was about and—god, Brooks still had icing in the corner of his mouth. It looked pretty hilarious, actually, respected hero and prodigy going on about something or another—Yuri wasn't capable of listening at this point—with face smeared with food like he were a four years old.

Before he could decide whether it was worth it to try to subtly make fun of that, Brooks jumped suddenly and turned his head, frowning at his partner whose hand was still touching his back where he unexpectedly patted him.

"Hey, Bunny! How do you—" his honest face split into a grin when he noticed what Yuri already did. "Aw, Lil' Bunny got himself all messy!"

The statement was followed by too-loud laugh, but Yuri was too distracted by Wild Tiger grabbing the rest of the gingerbread chimney from his scoffing partner's hand to mind or even properly notice.

Feeling the sudden flow of something dangerously similar to panic he made a quick turn, bringing his hand to his face and excusing himself, deciding to spend the rest of the evening in the safety of the tea corner.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** Actually I'm wondering about writing a sequel to this from Bunny's point of view. y/n?


End file.
